


Merry Christmas, Derek

by MadnessofVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Christmas Decorating, Christmas Shopping, Christmas fic, Christmas hurts, Christmas traditions, Comfort, Derek is a Christmas Baby, Derek is a Softie, Derek is healthier, First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Claudia - Freeform, Mentions of Kate - Freeform, Mentions of the Hale fire, Nemeton is dead, Rebuilt Hale House, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Small bit of angst, Stiles Stilinski Takes Care Of Derek Hale, as a pack, but only briefly, except the Hales, in a Stiles way, no one is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9046577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessofVoid/pseuds/MadnessofVoid
Summary: Besides...all the Hale ornaments had perished in the fire...
And Cuán wouldn't be on the tree top...
or
Derek decides to come to BH, stays, and rebuilds the house for the pack...but is definitely not looking forward to Christmas





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsagiStillinski](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AsagiStillinski).



> Merry Christmas, everyone! (Happy Holidays, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa - whatever you celebrate, much happy of it!) 
> 
> Let me tell you how surprised I am to have this done right on schedule. Never happens, but here it is! AsagiStilinski and I were a little bummed out that we missed out on doing any secret Santa goodies, so we decided to write Christmas fics for each other (and everyone else) to enjoy. Wasn't exactly the fic she requested, but it is a back-up and who doesn't like a bit of fluff in their lives?
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful Emela (since my usual beta obviously could not do so this time). Thank you so much for helping me out with this! Despite both of our crazy schedules ^^;
> 
> Believe that is all I have to say about this fic. So, without further ado, enjoy! And again, Happy Holidays and so forth :3

Since coming back to Beacon Hills to see the graduation, Derek decided it would be a good idea to stay after all. Keep an eye on the baby betas while Scott and the others attended college.

The air was cleaner. It didn't stink of death any longer. (“Thank you, Stiles, for killing the nemeton.” “You could have died, you idiot.” “I don't hear a thank you!” “And you never will.” “Nice to see you haven't changed, big guy.”) Might as well give the town one last try, right? Patch a few things up here and there. See what new things he could do with the pack he left behind.

Instantly, Sheriff Stilinski invited Derek to make himself at home in the guest room, because of course somebody (see Stiles) told the aging man of all the places the wolf used to live in that he hadn't known about. He also offered Derek a job at the station so that he wouldn't feel mind numbingly bored with his days with all the new found peace. (There was no way he was going to spend all his time babysitting the baby betas. He learned his lesson with Scott.) And, of course, the sheriff bribed him often to lie to Stiles about what was being eaten. (Books – his eternal weakness.)

It felt strangely nice. Like something had been lifted from him. Nothing toxic lingering in his chest.

When the college bound pack members left it was...awkward at first.

Only Liam, out of the baby betas, knew Derek. He didn't have sparkling eyes on the older werewolf before and certainly didn't now, but he at least _respected_ Derek. More so than Scott ever had. _That_ definitely made Derek feel weird. Hayden was reluctant of him at first. Much glaring and fangs flashing. But, after some time, once it was discovered that they both had similar tastes in (who would've thunk) sports teams, she warmed up to him so fast that it made Derek's head spin.

Mason was...Stiles 2.0, more or less. Had the same hunger when it came to research. Had the same knack of running his mouth. But that's where it ended. He did have the same bite of sarcasm. Didn't flail his limbs like he had no idea how to control him. And he gawked at Derek like he was some ancient artifact for _weeks_. At least Corey, Mason's boyfriend, was shy and quiet. And he was surprisingly a great conversationalist. Next to Stiles, Kira, Erica, Boyd, and Allison – Corey was Derek's favorite.

After a few months into his stay at the Stilinski residence, and (surprisingly) enjoying his job as a sort of consultant for the sheriff (sadly, supernatural business still was a thing at times, despite the dead beacon), it was during a Skype call with Stiles that he realized something. If he was going to stick around...he should have something to provide for everyone. He didn't want to feel like...like...some tumor growing in the dirt and watching as the world around him went by.

Not again.

“I want to rebuild the house...” he said out of nowhere during Stiles' rant about some guy slapping his ass when he was doing something or another.

The room went silent for a moment. Derek thought for a split second that Stiles was going to make fun of him, or suggest it was a bad idea, or mention that the land had been repossessed by some city big wigs. Instead, once it sank in, a sincere grin spread across Stiles' lips and he pulled out a notebook along with a pen.

“Okay, big guy. Let's talk about how you wanna go about that, then. Is it gonna have the same floor design? Is it gonna be different? Is it gonna be the same size? Is it gonna be bigger or smaller? Won't it be lonely in that house all by yourself? Did you want to use it for like...a pack meeting place and safe haven? Talk to me, Derek. What's going on in that head of yours?”

Their Skype calls, phone calls, and even text messages were taken up mostly by plans to rebuild the Hale House after that. It felt amazing, having someone so eager to get this project going. More eager than the person that suggested it in the first place!

Derek managed to repurchase the land (by some insane stroke of luck), and immediately got this thing up and running. Stiles tried to come down every weekend, despite the five hour drive, to help out. If Stiles couldn't be around to do anything, Liam or Hayden, sometimes Mason and Corey, dropped by to assist in whatever way they could. If possible, sometimes Parrish or the sheriff came over to help out. Chris sometimes came by if he wasn't too busy. Melissa always brought over food of some kind, and lent a hand if she didn't have to go into work or go home from a night shift.

Even if all the pack couldn't help at the same time, it was still pack time. That was all that mattered.

The house was officially finished by the time the first week of December rolled around. It took another week for the house to be fully furnished. Each extra bedroom was done with a special touch for each pack member, including the parents, and had to be done with meticulous care. (Not really, but Derek didn't want to mess it up.) His skin was crawling with excitement by the time everyone was off school for Christmas break. He was eager to see what they all thought of this house. His house. The _pack's_ house.

Until he remembered the Christmas bit.

He knew everyone would want to celebrate. Even Isaac, who is Jewish. (“We can celebrate Christmas if we want to. My family wasn't really religious in the first place.”)

The idea of Christmas scared him half to death. Christmas was a taboo holiday for him. One half was because the memories with his family during Christmas was painful. The other half was because it was his birthday and it was already a nightmare (not really but no one needed to know) that Stiles had found out. He couldn't imagine the rest of the pack finding out!

Besides...all the Hale ornaments had perished in the fire...

And Cuán wouldn't be on the tree top...

“You doing okay, son?”

Derek startled, having forgotten that he was eating lunch with the sheriff in his office. He had been too far into his thoughts. Not like Sheriff Stilinski was any better. He was just as excited, if not more, to see the reactions towards the new Hale house. More importantly, he was excited to see Stiles for more than just a few days. Derek almost used that bit of distraction against the sheriff to lie about being fine. But the aging man was just as sharp as his son...there would be no way Derek could lie.

“Christmas is coming...”

“Well yeah. And it's going to be a busy time at the station. Always is, sadly. God, I hope I can get it off this year. Not like I have too many left to spend with my son. Getting old, sadly. And so is he.”

“Yeah...”

The sheriff sighed, setting his salad down (was Parrish's fault, by the way) and giving the wolf his undivided attention. “Christmas is a bad time of year for you, isn't it?”

In that moment, all the pain of not having his family around slammed into his chest. He nodded solemnly, not trusting his voice. The sheriff nodded back, a little hum leaving him.

“Well, I know it will be tough, but I think it would be a good idea to still celebrate it. I mean, you have that house. Why not have all of us there having a big ol' celebration? Will definitely be loud enough.”

A shy smile twitched at the corners of Derek's lips. This was true. Having all the pack over for Christmas would be nostalgic concerning the noise volume and chaos levels. Wouldn't replace what his family had done but...new traditions weren't too bad. Right?

“Take Stiles shopping tomorrow.” the sheriff said, picking his salad back up with a humorous grimace. “Halloween may be his favorite holiday, but don't let him bullshit you. Kid loves Christmas decoration shopping. And he has a keen eye for the good stuff somehow. Gets it from Claudia, I suppose.”

Derek sat there, thoughtful for a moment. “Sir...what do you and Stiles usually do for Christmas?”

“Hmmm? Oh...uh...we decorate the tree, sometimes the house if we feel like it. Once we're done with that, we curl up on the couch and watch White Christmas before calling it a night. Was Claudia's favorite movie. It makes us feel like she's there, in a way.”

“That...sounds nice.”

“Yeah. Then it was just the usual. One present on Christmas Eve, slaughter the rest of them on Christmas Day, leave the mess for the next day or week depending on how lazy we are, and sometimes we watch White Christmas again.”

The wolf nodded, ideas rolling in his head. “Thanks for telling me, sir.”

“You know you don't have to do that for us. You have the right to impose your own traditions on us since we'll be in _your_ house.”

He shrugged, munching slowly on his sandwich. To be honest, despite all the growth he had done in the past year or so, there was still one trait of his that Derek could not do away with: sacrificing.

**~+~**

Asking Stiles to Christmas shop with him proved to be difficult.

Mostly because the idea of doing it without his mother by his side hurt too much.

It was around midnight when Derek finally sent Stiles a text with the invite. And it was about five minutes later that Stiles messaged back in all caps that he was _so in_ for decoration shopping. Also, there were a million smiley faces. Typical Stiles.

When nine in the morning rolled around, the wolf heard familiar tell-tale signs of a jeep rolling across the dirt. He groaned, not having expected Stiles for another hour or two. He was planning on sleeping in for once! Throwing a pillow over his head, he hoped with every fiber of his being that Stiles would be quiet when entering the house.

“HOLY SHIT! THIS PLACE IS HUGE!”

And of course he wasn't quiet.

Typical. Goddamn. _Stiles_.

An excited screech echoed through the halls, followed by a low, ear piercing, “Oh my god! This kitchen! Fuck yeah, Der! You made this kitchen _orgasmic_! Hah! Eat your heart out, Gordon Ramsey!”

(Derek may or may not have snorted at that.)

There was more experimental shuffling for an excruciating time. Doors opened and closed rather loudly, though there were a few times they were (poorly) closed quietly. Stiles mumbled his approval for each room, having guessed which belonged to whom easily. A moment of silence occurred when Derek guessed that Stiles found his own room.

At that time, the wolf decided that maybe he should finally roll out of bed.

He made sure to move across the halls quietly, just to mess with Stiles. When he reached the bedroom Stiles was lingering in, he couldn't help but to stand there and just...beam with pride.

The younger man was sitting on the bed picked out for him, staring at the navy blue walls with dark orange trimming (terrible color choices, but they were the color of the Mets and Stiles loved his Mets) with awe. Derek could see his eyes dart around, trying to take in everything on the walls, dresser, and desk. From the Star Wars merch, to the old school horror movie merch, to signed balls from Mets players, to some band posters. It was a lot to take in it seemed.

Derek thought now would be a good time to make himself known. However...

“Did dad give you that picture?”

Stiles sounded choked up and his eyes were now focused straight ahead. The wolf swallowed, stepping into the room and stare flitting towards said picture.

It was small, a size barely one up from a wallet print. It looked a little worn, like it had been in a book or something else, but still in good condition. In it was a snowy landscape up in the mountains and two people. One was a smaller version of Stiles – wearing a thick black jacket with a Batman beanie and gloves, a gap in his smile were his two front teeth should be, and his nose and cheeks utterly pink from the cold. Hugging him and kissing his cheek, was the late Claudia wearing the same thing her son was just in a bigger size, her nose and cheeks also pink like her son's.

The sheriff said this had been Stiles' favorite picture of Claudia. Handed it straight over when asked for something that may make Stiles' room feel more like a home away from home. They both knew it would cause a reaction from Stiles. But...Stiles hadn't had a picture of his mother around since her death. Derek would give anything to have a picture of some kind of his...

“Your father said it was your favorite...” the older man mumbled, feeling self-conscious.

Stiles' lips twitched. “Yeah...yeah it is...” He sniffed audibly, wiping at his eyes. “We, uh, went to visit her side of the family in Colorado. For Christmas. I was five.” The lip twitching turned into a full blown smile. “It was so fucking cold!”

“Considering it doesn't really snow here...”

“Thanks. For...” He motioned to the whole room, the light back in his being. “All of this. I feel like I'm in my dream room.”

“That was the idea. For all of your rooms, I mean.”

“Must've been a lot of work.”

Derek shrugged because it really wasn't. Not to him, at least. He knew Melissa had to call him daily and remind him to breathe, that Parrish teased him a little, and the sheriff had often dragged him out of the house in order for a break to happen...but it still wasn't a lot of work for him. It was just...something nice for the pack. Even though he was certain that only Stiles and maybe Erica would use the rooms a good portion of the time.

Stiles stood up, immediately engulfing Derek in a tight hug. If it had been the past, Derek wouldn't have any idea what to do with this. Would likely have frozen or growled. But times had changed. _Derek_ had changed. He gave into the embrace, hugging just as tightly back and even patted the younger man's back. A small chuckle left Stiles as he leaned in closer.

“Damn, you give the best hugs. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I think you and Erica are the only ones.”

“That is...that is a sin. The whole world should be telling you this 'cause, damn man, you give the best fucking hugs.”

“I'll make sure to make that into a shirt.”

“I'm holding you to that!”

The wolf cleared his throat, ear tips starting to grow hot. “We should get going.”

“Shit!” Stiles pulled away from him like he had just been burned, patting himself down to make sure he had something or another. “Right! Decorations! Can't have a pack Christmas without decorations! Fuck...a lot of the stores may be cleaned out! We'll have to go to so many places! What's today? Monday? Okay...okay...so! We'll head to Target, Wal-Mart, Hobby Lobby, Micheal's, Bed Bath And Beyond, Ross...uhhhh...”

Derek allowed himself to laugh, leaving the room while shaking his head. Stiles soon followed close behind, protesting against the laugh and explaining rapidly why last minute Christmas anything was bad and why Derek should shop the minute the Christmas crap was out on the shelves.

This was going to be an eventful shopping trip.

**~+~**

Buying decorations was an all day ordeal.

Well, not an ordeal, per se.

More like an _adventure_.

Stiles behaved like an excited little kid the entire time, pointing at everything he thought was cool or super cute. He would protest whenever Derek picked up said items and threw them into the cart. Mostly over the price. But Derek waved his hand at him and insisted that he make the first Christmas with the pack in the new Hale House worth remembering. There were a few things that Stiles convinced him to put back. Like the inflatable snowman, since nobody really other than the pack would see it. (“Lights are just fine outside, Der. Maybe a few reindeer. But _not_ a huge ass snowman made of air.”)

The best part of the trip was when they went to a little shop that would take requests for handmade ornaments at a reasonable price. Stiles nearly lost it when he saw the wolf ornament made for him. It was brown like his hair with a devious gleam in the facial expression, had a book in its mouth, and wore a red hoodie. He shoved at Derek, laughing at how dorky it was and how surprised he was that Derek had put an order in beforehand for ornaments that represented the entire pack. Derek just shrugged and paid for the large bundle, hoping that everyone else would like theirs as much as Stiles liked his.

“Hey, do you do tree toppers?” Stiles asked just as Derek was lifting the bag off the counter.

When the shop owner confirmed that they did, Stiles immediately shooed Derek out of the shop and demanded that he didn't eavesdrop. Derek didn't eavesdrop, but...he had a feeling what Stiles was doing...

Finally, done with shopping, they pulled up to the house where the rest of the pack, as well as the honorary members, were waiting eagerly outside. Derek had texted them all earlier, figuring that decorating now would be better than later. Even though the sky was dark. And, thankfully, they all agreed.

The car was unloaded within minutes. The special ordered ornaments were passed out by Stiles shortly after. Laughter filled the spacious living room with each new ornament. Especially over the fox and coyote ornaments for Kira and Malia instead of the wolves everyone else received. Each burst of laughter drove Derek's anxious feelings about celebrating Christmas down deeper into nothing. The joy that suffocated the air felt...felt...

Perfect.

Just right.

Like his family was still here.

Doughnuts and non-alcoholic eggnog was passed out as everyone went about the decorating spree. Erica gave Derek a big hug, thanking him for doing the doughnut thing that her family did for Christmas. Boyd smiled into his cup of eggnog, likely being reminded of what his family did for Christmas. When Stiles blasted Christmas music, several of the pack members whooped, thanking Derek for including their traditions into the mix.

While decorating the tree, Isaac awkwardly came up to Derek and gave him a hug. Which meant he found the Hanukkah decorations.

“Didn't want anyone to feel left out...” the former alpha mumbled, ears growing hot.

“But no one else celebrates Hanukkah...” Isaac pointed out quietly.

“But you do.”

“Not since mom died, really. But still...thanks.”

“Don't mention it.”

After Isaac walked off, pulling Allison along with him to show her what Derek did, the older wolf heard a faint chuckle. He faced the culprit, brows raised in confusion.

“What?”

Stiles shook his head, this fond look all over him. “Nothing. Just...you seem to be catering to everyone's traditions but your own.”

Derek ducked his head, trying to ignore the snickers he heard coming from Lydia and Erica. “I thought it would make this all the more special...”

“It does. Believe me, it does. But dude...you should impose some of yours on us. And how the hell did you find out about all these traditions, anyways? You didn't sneak around, did you?”

“I asked. Like a normal person.”

“Wow. So proud.”

“Shut up and decorate the tree, Stiles.”

“I'm just saying...you should practice your own traditions with us. Keep them alive and such.”

“Maybe next year.”

The conversation ended there. But Derek could sense the flecks of sadness radiating off of Stiles. He would've asked what was wrong, but Scott came over to ask about the lack of a tree topper.

“Oh! I'm having that specially made. We'll put it up two days before Christmas.”

A mixture of melancholy and gratitude sank into the pits of Derek's gut. Stiles thought he was being sneaky but...he wasn't. Cora had called him a day before Stiles had arrived back in Beacon Hills, asking why Stiles was asking about any special decorations the Hales had that could be put up in the new house.

He knew that Stiles was having their perished tree topper remade.

It wouldn't be the same, though.

Cuán had been passed down from his father's side of the family for generations. It was old, ratty, and missing an eye. A new Cuán would be nice, thoughtful even. But it still wouldn't be the same as the old Cuán...

“Oh, the tree looks lovely.” came Melissa's voice, sneaking up on those tackling the tree and taking their empty eggnog glasses.

“It certainly has charm.” Lydia hummed, beaming with pride.

“Cookies are done!” Chris called from the kitchen.

Instantly, Liam and Mason booked it to the kitchen, eager for more sugar. Allison and Hayden threw their heads back, laughing at their eagerness. Corey, being the most polite thing Derek had ever met, went outside to inform those tackling the outdoor decor that cookies were ready.

“You kids keep it up with the tree, I'll grab you your cookies.” offered Melissa with a smile.

“Thanks, mom!” Scott grinned.

“I call the one that's shaped like a gingerbread man! If anyone eats that one, I will skin you and make you into a coat!”

“Sounds festive.” Erica teased, walking out of the kitchen with a gingerbread shaped cookie.

“You are evil!”

“You know you love me.”

(She gave Stiles the cookie, winking at him as Boyd handed her a Santa one with a peck on the cheek. Stiles still refused to forgive her.)

By ten at night, all the decorating was done. The house looked magnificent. So bright and lived in. Everyone celebrated by howling into the air (was more of a joke than anything but Derek didn't have the heart to tell them that his family used to do that).

Derek ushered them all inside with the announcement that they were going to watch a few movies. Fortunately, no one had plans the next day so everyone was up for it. They settled down rather noisily, a few of them fighting over the beanbags. Most of them had to share a beanbag, so those that had their own snickered at the victory. The sheriff sighed with content as he settled into the armchair Derek bought specifically for him. Chris and Melissa chatted away as they took up space on a section of the half circle of a couch.

“This spot is mine and Derek's! Mine and Derek's! No one steal it!” Stiles announced, sprawling out on the best spot of the couch with a 'fight me' look.

Kira and Erica jumped onto Stiles in response, making faces at him and laughing as he squealed loudly.

It felt like an hour before everyone had finally calmed and fell silent. Derek placed the movie into the player and quickly curled up next to Stiles. His heart was racing, hoping that his choice of the first movie would be okay. That it wasn't too much.

When the menu for White Christmas popped up, the room was deafened by cheers.

The loudest from Stiles.

**~+~**

“Do you want to do anything for your birthday?”

The question stunned Derek, causing him to almost drop the files the sheriff had given him to look over at home.

It was the day after the decorating spree. Everyone had gone home last night. Everyone _but_ Stiles. He had left for about an hour earlier in the day before coming back freshly changed and showered. Derek was getting ready to sit at the table to pour over the files when Stiles walked back in and started making waffles without prompting.

The question was also without prompting.

“My birthday is on Christmas.”

He could hear Stiles' eye roll. Literally.

“No shit, Sherlock. I meant what did you want to do for your birthday _before_ then? Since you don't want anyone to know when your birthday is. I don't know why. I think everyone would like to throw you a big party. Because, y'know, we are all getting along better than we used to.”

The wolf shrugged, sitting at the small table.

“Use words, Der. I'm in the middle of making you noms.”

He heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes loudly. “I don't know, Stiles. I don't think it's a big deal.”

“Birthdays are big deals.”

“Why? It's just celebrating you getting older.”

“It's also celebrating your life thus far. Sometimes passed that. Dad and I still celebrate mom's...”

A lump formed in Derek's throat, guilt rising.

“I can hear your self-guilt. Cut it out.”

“You can't hear guilt, Stiles.”

“Yes you can! You just have to have skills!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I will stop making these waffles, young man!”

“I'm older than you.”

“Oh my gooooooood! You are still terrible at understanding my jokes!”

“I understand them. I just choose to burst your bubble every time.”

The younger man whipped around, eyes and jaw wide and the bowl with waffle mix tight in his hands. “I _knew_ it! You are a total _dicknose_!”

Derek shrugged, eyes falling onto the papers. “I don't care what we do, Stiles. I'd prefer we didn't so anything. But, knowing you, you won't listen and you'll drag me out of the house anyway.”

“Damn straight I will! You need to celebrate your birth, man! It is a glorious thing! Even if your straws have been short up until now.”

No argument was said at that. Mostly because Stiles was right. Laura and his mother used to say all the time that celebrating one's birth was like a rite of passage for the year, no matter when it occurred. Or like a 'Look at me, world! I'm gracing your presence with mine for one more year!'

Stiles would have gotten along with his mom and sister so damn good...

They fell into silence (with the exception of Stiles' off tune hums) until breakfast was done. Stiles made Derek a plate of waffles, down to the tee of how the wolf liked them, before sitting down next to him with his own plate. Stiles then took interest on what Derek was working on, pestering relentlessly until he was granted the pleasure to 'assist' Derek.

For hours, they sat there at the table, reading and discussing the contents of the files. There had been multiple, non-fatal attacks on the hiking trails that seemed to be more animal than supernatural recently that the sheriff wanted a second opinion on before calling Animal Control. Stiles, ever the keen eye and mind, pointed out the traits that moved it away from animal. Derek noticed them as well, giving way into a deep and heated discussion into what it was attacking hikers.

“It's not a werewolf...” muttered Derek, brows furrowed deeply.

“Of course it isn't! The markings are too small!” huffed Stiles, making himself a second plate of waffles. “Unless it's a baby werewolf. Which, if that's the case, we need to do some talking about your surprising libido, dude.”

“If it _was_ a baby werewolf _and_ mine, it would be _in this house_. Not out attacking innocent people.”

“Good point. You're more responsible than that. Scottie on the other hand...he would lose his little wolfy pup.”

“We do not call our children pups, Stiles.”

“Why not?! It's cute as hell!”

“We're getting off topic...”

“Right right. Sorry. Uhhhh...okay...not wolfy. What else could make those marks?”

“Kanima?”

“The victims haven't reported paralysis. And they aren't reptilian claws.”

“And you would know this how?”

“This glorious being has been clawed one too many times by reptilian claws. I would know if those marks were reptilian.”

“Didn't know you were such an expert.”

“I am the _best_ fucking expert around. Mind your sass!”

Derek rolled his eyes rather fondly, enjoying the scoff and farce wounded expression the younger man made. Felt like old times. Like nothing had ever changed between them.

Like home...

**~+~**

It was around one in the afternoon when they decided to take a break. They weren't getting anywhere at this point. Not even the bestiary was helping. Derek emailed Chris the pictures, hoping that maybe he would see something they missed, and suggested that lunch was in order.

“Oh! I know a bomb ass place just outside of town! I'll drive!”

Derek's brows raised, giving the younger man an expression that said more words than he could even think of saying aloud. (Old habits and all that.) Stiles flailed, almost looking offended.

“Don't gimme that look! It's a great place!”

“So...it's a burger joint.”

“You wound me! I eat more than burgers! Mark my words, Derek Samuel, I will have you ranting and raving about this place by the end of the day!”

The wolf rolled his eyes, snorting loudly and rising from his seat. “Can't wait.”

“I'm surprised you're not freaking out over how I know your middle name.”

“I know you, Stiles. You probably illegally obtained it.”

“That's...not entirely true.”

“Just take me to this amazing place of yours.”

“You got it, sour wolf!”

He winked at the older man, a mischievous smirk spreading across his mouth. Derek rolled his eyes, stealing the keys from Stiles just to see the younger male fight fruitlessly for them back.

**~+~**

The drive took less than a half an hour when they finally left the house.

The entire time, Stiles was rambling about school. About how much he was iffy about it all. How much he hated being away from everyone. How much he worried about his dad. How much he wanted to punch a few of his professors in the face for their incompetence. Typical Stiles topics.

Derek had missed hearing these type of things.

For a while, all their conversations had been about the house. Their time was taken up by the house. Anything and everything about it, that was all they spoke of. To hear Stiles rattle on and on about his life at school made Derek feel...included. As if he was a bigger part of Stiles' life somehow. Sure, Stiles likely told his dad and Scott all these things, but, just...

Derek enjoyed listening to Stiles, okay?

It was oddly therapeutic.

(He would never tell Stiles that, however. _Never_.)

(Just like how he would _never_ tell him about how much he missed their banters and pouring over mysteries dealing with the supernatural. No need to give him any ideas.)

When they arrived at this 'bomb ass place', Derek felt all color drain from his face.

He knew where they were. Hadn't been there since before the fire. The last time he had been here...it had been with...

“I know Kate ruined this place for you.” Stiles broke into the tense air with a nervous voice. “But, if you're up for it, I wanna make it all...uh...hunky dory for you again. Cora said you used to love eating here. And I can see why. Cute little diner. Delicious food. Really good. Only saying that 'cause I had this on my way back home just to see why Cora said it was a shame that you couldn't eat here anymore. So! Again, like I said, if you're up for it, we can totally eat here and make new memories. Maybe bring Cora here when she comes for a visit. But, if you can't do it today, then we'll go somewhere else no problem. This is your b-day shindig, big guy. You make the calls.”

The older man licked his lips, feeling both anxious and in awe by Stiles' words. Something itched inside him. Threatened to burst free. Instead, he heaved a sigh and opened the door. He could sense Stiles freaking out as he slipped out of the Jeep, which was not what he wanted.

Just because he had evolved and spent time away from the toxicity of Beacon Hills did not mean he was fixed. He still had issues with dealing with his emotions. Especially ones that focused on the scabs of his past.

So, to remedy the panic radiating off the young man, Derek poked his head back into the Jeep, smirking as he asked, “You coming?”

It took everything within him to not laugh as Stiles fumbled out of the driver's seat. He at least cracked a smile, a genuine smile. And Stiles caught it once he straightened himself out.

“Wow.” he breathed, doe eyes going wide. “It's pretty everywhere.”

Derek quickly scoffed and scowled, attempting to hide his embarrassment over the compliment. He knew he failed when Stiles grinned deviously, walking around the Jeep and wrapped an arm around him. He kept the scowl plastered on just to spite Stiles. Didn't faze the younger man at all, which wasn't a surprise at all. Again, felt like old times, solidifying the feeling that not much had changed between them.

“Now...don't be mad...but I told the staff that I would try to bring you in. They were so excited. Especially these little old ladies named Vicki and Vivi.”

“Vicki and Vivi are still here? I know Fatima and Wei are still here, but...Vicki and Vivi are, too?”

“Yep. And they're excited to -”

They hadn't even opened the door to the diner when it flew open for them. An elderly woman with bright silver hair tied up in a messy bun and excited dark eyes squealed as she pulled Derek in by his jacket, hugging him like he had come back from the dead.

“Derek! Oh, baby honey, it has been so long!” she bemoaned playfully in a thick Southern accent. “Ohhhh, lemme get a good look at you!” She pulled away, looking over Derek more in awe than the hunger he was used to. “Oh my goodness...you look just like your mother. Except the gray flecks in the beard. _That_ you get from your father.” She hugged him again, giggling loudly. “It is so good to see you, honey! You're looking so handsome and healthy!”

Derek had no idea what to say. It was all a bit too much. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss Vicki's overwhelming personality. She was always like the aunt or grandma he never had. She had that Southern kindness and attitude that had never failed to make him feel like he visiting a relative instead of a fifties styled diner.

She didn't wait on him to respond. She just swooped him on in, Stiles tailing behind with lips pierced closely together so he wouldn't laugh. And, to Derek's horror, she immediately announced his presence.

“Derek's here?! Well shit, how are ya, kiddo?!” shouted a man in the kitchen. The man poked his head out of the window, jaw dropping when he got a look. “You look just like your mother...”

“Doesn't he, Wei? Looks _just_ like his mother!” Vicki chirped, happy that someone agreed with her.

A waitress rushed on over, one Derek only recognized last minute as Vicki's younger sister Vivi, and gave him a bone crushing hug. Another cook from the back, Fatima, (Derek only realized it was her when she started spewing compliments in Arabic) darted over and shoved Vivi out of the way so she could hug him.

“Wow. Didn't realize how popular you were, big guy.” Stiles snickered in the background, obviously enjoying how bewildered and slightly uncomfortable Derek looked.

If Derek could snarl...he would.

Fatima and Vivi turned their attention to Stiles, glancing him over in approval.

“He's cute, Derek.” purred Fatima with a shit eating grin.

“If you are not on that thing, I will be more than happy to take him off your hands.” Vivi teased with a wink.

“Oh, nuh-uh. I saw him first. I call his cute little face and doe eyes.” Vicki huffed.

Now it was Derek's turn to snicker at Stiles' red face. He knew that the girls were all happily married, especially Fatima whose wedding to her wife he went to just last year. But _Stiles_ didn't know that. And it was like justified revenge at this point.

“I, uh, I-I...” stammered Stiles, face getting redder by the minute.

“Ladies! Can't you tell? The boy likes a ding-a-ling between the legs!” barked Wei with an evil smirk. “If you're single, kiddo, my son likes his men pretty like you.”

“Oh my god...” Stiles muttered, face now reaching maroon status.

Derek shook his head, patting Stiles' shoulder in small sympathy. “They're just teasing. Fatima is married to a wonderful woman, Vicki and Vivi love their husbands too much, and Wei has a daughter, not a son.”

“Always ruining the fun.” Vivi sighed, pinching Derek's cheek. “But you're right. We were teasing your little friend here. Which, honestly, please tell me you two are boyfriends. No friend is _this_ sweet.”

“That just goes to show what kind of friends you have.” Stiles retorted quietly.

At that, Fatima laughed hysterically, barely able to make it back to the kitchen to rejoin Wei, who was also losing it. Vicki snorted, quickly disguising it as a cough when her sister gave her a look. Derek allowed himself to laugh – full on, full body, head thrown back, laugh. Didn't even get to see how shell-shocked Stiles was towards all this.

After Vivi gave an approving nod at Stiles for his sharp comeback (despite how quiet), Vicki took the men to a booth in the corner and refused to allow anyone else to help them. It didn't take long for Derek to unconsciously fall back into the comfortable routine he used to have at the diner. Didn't take long for Stiles to adapt to it like a chameleon and fit right in with the crowd. Vicki kept making quips on how adorable they looked together. Derek had to keep reminding her that they weren't together. Stiles, now feeling great for being accepted, wouldn't stop calling him pet names he knew were in the green zone with a sly smirk.

(Derek's heart jumped every single damned time. He wanted to shove Stiles out of the booth.)

The air was light the entire visit. Fun and enticing. Stiles laughed more than Derek had ever seen him laugh before. _Derek_ laughed more than he had in _years_. When it was time to go, it wasn't without promising to come by more often. From the both of them. Hugs were dished out again before they were allowed out the door.

When they got into the Jeep, Stiles sat there for a moment, a tender smile spread across his lips. Derek was about to huff out a “what”, but he was beat to the chase.

“Happy birthday, Derek.”

The small, shy smile the wolf gave was all Stiles needed to know that a thanks between them.

**~+~**

 

Derek: _**Figured out what the creature attacking the hikers was.**_

Stiles: _**Without me?! You asshole!**_

Derek: _**Would've invited you but Chris wanted it to be a small gathering.**_

Stiles: _**Did Ally go? Coz if she went then that is totally biased!**_

Derek: _**She did and no it isn't.**_

Stiles: _**Ugh you guys suck ass!**_

Stiles: _**What was it, btw?**_

Derek: _**A new breed of Chupacabra .**_

Stiles: _**That's a thing?**_

Derek: _**Apparently.**_

Derek: _**It was really ugly.**_

Stiles: _**Did you get a picture? Please tell me you got a picture!**_

Derek: _**Allison did.**_

Stiles: _**Sweet! I'll ask her to send it to me!**_

Stiles: _**So I'm picking up the tree topper. What time did you want all of us to come over to plant that sucker onto the tree? And should we all bring noms?**_

 

Derek sucked on his teeth, staring at the screen of his phone. A knot formed in his stomach. Over the past few days of Christmas shenanigans (as Kira was calling it), he completely forgot that Stiles had ordered a custom made tree topper. Forgot that Cuán was being replaced with something new and how much that...made him want to lock himself up in his room and throw away the key. But that would be backwards progress. And he didn't want to reject Stiles at least trying to do something that the Hales used to do. It was thoughtful and...

 

Derek: _**7 works.**_

Stiles: _**Cool! See ya at 7 big guy!**_

 

He continued to stare at the screen, heaving a weary sigh. How in the hell was he going to pretend that he was okay tonight? Or how he was going to pretend he wasn't seconds from having a breakdown consisting of sobs for the next two days?

Frustrated with everything, Derek tossed his phone onto the coffee table with little to no energy, and curled up in the fetal position on the couch. It was only noon – no one would be here till seven. He had plenty of time to unleash all his pent up sadness before anyone showed up and expected him to be one hundred percent smiles.

So he did.

He bawled his little heart out until he fell asleep from emotional exhaustion.

Of course he didn't know he had done that until he felt someone poking at his shoulder. He jerked awake, eyes glowing and claws popped – ready to defend himself and his home.

“Whoa! Calm down, Cujo! It's just me.”

The sound of Stiles' voice made Derek retract. He plopped back down on the couch, covering his eyes with an arm. He could hear Stiles move around the living room, chuckling the entire time. Probably proud of himself for the dog joke. Which, to be honest, doubled as a Stephen King reference and, well, Derek felt a small bubble of pride.

“You're early...” he humphed.

Stiles snorted, the movements heading to the kitchen. “Just by an hour. And I wanted to get some stuff in the oven.”

“I thought everyone was bringing food?”

“Yeah, they are. I, on the other hand, am bringing something to have cooked.”

“What is it?”

“Uh, it's called breakfast casserole, or something. Has eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, and cheese and together. Apparently it's really good. Or so I've heard. Already have it prepped. Just gotta stick it in the oven.”

Breakfast...?

Okay. That does it. This was...this was too much!

Loudly, not bothering to hide it, Derek started sobbing all over again. He couldn't do this. Christmas was...this was too hard. Just too hard! And Stiles trying to sneak in small things that the Hales used to do was...as thoughtful as it was...it was...he couldn't...just...

“Derek? You okay?”

He felt Stiles' quivering hand rest on his elbow, ready to yank away if needed. Derek reached out with his free hand, placing it over Stiles' to keep it there. To show that it was okay to touch. Stiles' touch had never hurt him intentionally. Never...

“Why...” he managed to croak out.

“Huh? Why what, Der?”

Derek lowered his arm, pulling Stiles' hand further up as they made eye contact. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“The diner, the casserole, the tree topper...why are you doing all this?”

Stiles worried at his lip, everything about his expression reading that he didn't expect this type of reaction. “Because...because you're a self-sacrificing dick who won't impose any of your family's traditions on the rest of us. I know it hurts, believe me, I know better than almost anyone in the pack, but...but you can't keep that buried forever. It'll only hurt more if you do. I know that from experience, too...”

The wolf gaped at Stiles, both surprised and grateful. He was right. It may hurt now...but it hurt more trying to pretend that the traditions didn't exist at all. Derek nodded, wiping at his eyes and feeling his face grow warm. Stiles just sat there, stroking his arm with a thumb, not saying anything. Just waited ever so patiently.

Since when did Stiles become like this?

“Do you...want to see the tree topper first? I mean...you will be the unknown birthday boy...”

Derek snorted, rolling his eyes but unable to hide a quiet smile. “Sure.”

Stiles bolted, appearing to go a little crazy trying to find the damned thing. Sometimes, Derek wondered if Stiles would lose his head if it wasn't attached.

He came back seconds later with a bag, cheeks tinted and fingers fidgeting. He held it out to Derek, looking almost terrified. Like his throat was going to be ripped out by werewolf teeth. Derek snorted again, sitting up and taking it with one hand while wiping some left over tears with the other. Apprehension filled his chest – mostly because it was seeping out of the younger male in front of him.

“I-I tried to make it look exactly how Cora described it. Hopefully she didn't miss any details.”

How Cora...?

Frantically, Derek tore the topper from the bag, heart beating in his ears. His breath escaped him. Hands shook. Eyes started watering again. Memories flooded.

Cuán II looked...just like the first one. The same matted black fur with tanned spots where bits had either been torn or had fallen off. The same faded black nose. The same chipping claws. The same piece of the tail that had the same blue stitching to keep it attached. The same red smirk for a mouth. The same missing eye.

Derek held it in his hand gingerly, afraid it would fall apart if he wasn't careful. It felt like...like he had Cuán back. Like he had his father and mother back. Like they were here through this small, insignificant thing.

And it was all thanks to Stiles...

“So...does it look right?”

Speaking of Stiles, Derek had completely forgot that he was there. He swallowed, words failing him. How was he supposed to thank Stiles for this? For bringing a piece of his family back to him. A simple “thank you” wasn't going to work. He had nothing to give back. Nothing.

That's when something came to mind.

And that something was the reason why Stiles was suddenly on his lap, stunned still as Derek kissed him. Didn't take long for Derek to start feeling self-conscious and he began to pull away. But Stiles, ever the one made to surprise the werewolf, set the new Cuán aside and pressed his lips back in a rather innocent, yet heated, way.

They only begrudgingly stopped when the preheat timer on the oven went off.

But that didn't mean they didn't stick together like glue as Stiles slid the pans into the oven. Derek peppered kisses on the back of Stiles' neck, not feeling any shame that he could do this now. Sure, he was going to have to deal with the sheriff, his boss technically, throwing out the usual fatherly threats and interrogations, but that was okay. He had kept the secret, even to himself, for years now. At least he had waited till Stiles was of age. That should hopefully lessen the half-hearted threats.

“I have a question.” inquired Stiles, fighting off giggles with each kiss to the neck.

“Mmm?”

“How do you say the little guy's name?”

Derek hummed, faintly pensive. He laid his cheek on Stiles' shoulder and managed to allow another quiet smile. “It's pronounced koo-awn. It means little wolf or little hound in Irish. Cuán has been passed down my father's line for generations.”

“Did your mom have anything passed down like that?”

“Stories. Stories of how we became.”

“I'd like to hear those one day, if that's cool with you.”

He chuckled, hiding his face in Stiles' neck (which made Stiles yip and that was honestly hilarious). “After everyone goes home tonight?”

Now it was Stiles' turn to chuckle. He patted Derek's head the best he could, likely looking so smug because he could do that without little threats. “Sounds good to me, big bad. I'll let daddy-o know I'm staying the night.”

“Okay.”

“And Derek? Merry Christmas.”

There was no pain at those words. Only warmth. An abundance of warmth.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk sterek with me!
> 
> youfancymemaddearie.tumblr.com


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